Predator
by ThatNewAuthor
Summary: It's the 175th Hunger Games, and as a reminder to the rebels that the Capitol was an unstoppable force during both wars, the tributes will not be allowed to kill each other. Instead 7 unstoppable predators will be released into the arena, and the last tribute standing will be Victor. Who will rise? Who will fall? Rated T because it's the freaking Hunger Games, people.
1. The Reading Of The Card

**AN: Sorry for the short first chapter. The next ones will be longer, I swear!**

Chapter 1

The Reading Of The Card

Head Gamemaker Scorpia Greenbow's POV

A hundred and seventy-five years. Since the Dark Days. Since the Hunger games were started. That's how long we've been killing children for our own entertainment. A hundred years ago the people tried to stop us. They were crushed. Seven years ago I became head Gamemaker . And since then the citizens of the Capitol have never been happier. The Games have only gotten more interesting with me in charge. I hate to sound smug, but it's true. I've brought fresh ideas and concepts to the stuffy control rooms of the Games, new ways to keep the hungry beast that is our city satisfied. The Capitol will hate to see me go. However, Head Gamemakers can only stay in office for seven years, so this will be my last Games. Then I can retire comfortably and live in a secluded mansion somewhere and everyone will move on to the next Head and forget I ever existed. Unless, of course, I do something completely unforgettable. I plan on it. My final Games will be remembered forever. They will be like nothing they have ever seen, before or since. It's already arranged with our current President, Melias Crowe. I'm surprised that after 175 years, the Districts still haven't figured out that the Quarter Quells are decided on by the Head Gamemaker in charge of that year. The President just has veto power, and the other envelopes are empty props. Speaking of which, I need to head over to the Coliseum where the announcements are made. It's almost time for the Reading, when my genius idea will be announced to the world.

Isaac Vida, District 5 citizen's POV

I hate Quarter Quells. The bloodthirsty Capitol just keeps on thinking of new ways to kill children, and they make us watch it all. It's bad enough that they take innocent (well, mostly) kids from their Districts and murder them on live TV, but forcing us to watch. And now they're going to tell us what brand-new, 'innovative' way they're going to slaughter us. I force my eyes back to the screen. Our sickly-looking president is now reaching into the Deathbox, as I like to call it. Those envelopes aren't fooling me. Paper 175 years old would have been dust long ago, at least the paper we have now. Before Panem paper apparently could last for hundreds of years, but not here. Once again, I have to force myself to look back at the screen, have to make myself pay attention. He's reading it, and he actually looks worse than usual.

"For the 7th Quarter Quell, as a reminder to the rebels that in both rebellions the Capitol was an unstoppable force, the tributes in this year's games will not be allowed to kill each other. Nor will there be any ordinary mutts."

What? "That makes no sense," I grumble. First, it's the freaking Hunger Games! They're SUPPOSED to kill each other! And second, what does that have to do with the Capitol 'being an unstoppable force?' Oh. He's not done.

"Instead, 7 unstoppable predators will be released into the arena. The last tribute standing will be crowned Victor! Good luck, and may the odds be ever in your favour! Oh, and there are no volunteers allowed."

Glad I'm 20 and not eligible for the Games anymore. That would absolutely suck for anyone unfortunate to be in that arena and I would have no chance of getting out… someone's at my door. They're banging on it, loudly and I can only think of one explanation. Peacekeepers. Somehow they must have found out about that little 'thing' I have under my bed. The door smashes in with a strangely satisfying noise and within moments I'm surrounded by them.

"Isaac Vida, you are under arrest for possession of illegal artifacts."

One of them swings a fist at me and everything goes black.

 **Hope you enjoyed! More to come!**


	2. District 2 Reapings

**I apologise, but the reapings will be out of order. District 11 next time! :)**

District Two Reapings

POV of Terra Cobb, age 18

No volunteers. Why no volunteers? This was _my_ year. I was meant to go into these Games and bring my family glory, and finally outshine my infuriating twin brother Dax. Which is why I'm currently destroying an expensive mechanical training dummy with a pair of katanas. I've never taken out tesserae. Never needed to, unlike the street kids with massive families, who take them out every year and have _so many_ chances to go into the Games. So they're probably going to get to go instead of me with my mere 78 slips, nothing compared to the hundreds of times the girl who lives on my street corner has. Ugh. I _hate_ whoever wrote those cards. But I have to go change, so I can watch some other girl take the place that is rightfully mine. I finish off the dummy with an extremely showy move and go to shower. Good luck fixing that. I hope I ruined something important. Serves them right. When I get home I take one look at the dress I'm supposed to wear I nearly retch. Who picked _that?_ The thing... it's _pink_ and covered, and I mean covered, in sequins, of all things. And how am I meant to walk in those shoes? I grab it, bundle the ten-inch tall heels inside, and drop it out the window, where it snags on Dax's balcony and hangs there. Excellent. Dax never uses his balcony and has had his windows tinted, but what are people going to think when they see a pink sparkly minidress hanging off the railing outside my brother's room? Let him explain _that_ to our parents. I grin and head inside to pick a replacement. Hmm… I grab my favourite green party dress, don it and go back downstairs. Dax is wearing a suit, but he doesn't seem to notice that he has a large piece of bacon stuck to the front. Now I'm almost hoping he gets Reaped, just for his expression when he finally sees it. He's deep in 'conversation' with our younger brother Slater, who I definitely hope isn't Reaped, because there is something not right about him. He talks to himself, carves lumps of wood into slightly creepy designs, and communicates with us only in sign language. Dax pulls a face in response to Slater's latest series of signs, and I walk off to the town square. They take a blood sample and I waste two hours of my life standing in a pen listening to Mayor Bedford drone _on_ and _on_ and _on_ about things that nobody listens to or cares, until he finishes, throws his script behind him, and walks off the stage, replaced by our escort Hestia Leto. At least she doesn't waste any time. She walks straight over to the girl's pool and pulls out the first slip she comes across. _Me, me, me, pick me_ , I think and then…

"Terra Cobb!" She calls out _my_ name and it's all I can do not to run onto the stage. I'm grinning like a maniac and she says

"Congratulations, Terra. Anything to say to the crowd?

I've spent ages coming up with my reply, and I think I pull it off perfectly.

I give them my most winning smile."See you soon," I say chirpily and they all cheer.

POV of Anthony Chisellos, age 16

Of all the days that could have happened, it had to be this one. Of course. I could have mistimed that jump at _any_ other time. But it had to be the day before the Reapings that the club of the training robot caught my leg. Even if I was chosen for the Games now my chances of winning have been drastically lowered with a broken knee or whatever I've done to myself. I refuse to seek treatment though. Doctors are for the weak and cowardly. If I asked for one I would be betraying Warwick, my brother who died after he broke his neck doing a training course, but in the last few minutes of his life refused all help because he was brave enough to face his fate. I can barely hobble to the town square, but I'm fine really. It's only blinding agony with every step I take. No matter. I don't even notice them stabbing my finger with that giant needle of theirs. Normally it makes me want to scream in pain but I'm already focused on not doing just that because of my leg. I get some funny looks from the crowd but again, no matter. They're insignificant. Little dots on a big dot surrounded by bigger dots. Dots, dots, dots. Filling my vision. Pretty little lights. Dimly, through my pain-filled haze, I see the girl, Terra, come up on stage. Her hair is a pretty red color, like a flaming bush. She smiles pretty too. So bright… but the paper in the glass bowls is brighter. No! No, Hestia! Don't take away the bright paper! Why are you calling me? I half-stumble, half-crawl up to the stage that soars into the sky. Everyone looks worried… and the black thing is in my face.

"Erm… Anthony, do you have anything to tell us?"

Do I?

"I…"

The dots swirl and grow into a cloud of black, and I collapse onto the stage.

White room and a hard bed. Beeping. Hazy shapes standing over me.

"Mr. Chisellos? You scared us. We can't have a missing tribute in the Quell, now can we?"

"Wh… What happened?"

"You had a very serious injury. Your kneecap was in splinters, some of them were lodged in muscle or nerves, and the resulting pain caused you to lose consciousness on the Reaping stage. All fixed now, of course. It might be hard to walk for an hour or two but you'll be fine within the next day. Now, hurry out of bed. You have a train to catch."


	3. District 1 Reapings

Yes, I know I said district 11 this time. But you can't stop inspiration! Also, the chapters will be about this length until after the Reapings.

District One Reapings

POV of Ebony Valour, age 14

"Hey, Sapphi, do you have anything for me?"

The jeweler's daughter grins and holds out a silver hair ornament, shaped like a bird with blue topaz for eyes.

"Almost no damage _at all_ , you believe these Capitol visitors? One of the tail feathers has a hole in it, so the owners don't want it anymore. I can offer it to you for the very reasonable price of 17 Tokens."

Excellent. I drop the money into my best friend's palm and take my prize. This will do quite nicely for Ruby Casper's party tonight. I wouldn't be able to live down the shame of not wearing anything new to the biggest party of winter. Or not going at all. The only way that would be acceptable is if I was _somehow_ Reaped. And being the daughter of one of the wealthiest merchants in the district has it's advantages. Such as having marked name slips that the Capitol escort makes sure to avoid, thanks to a medium-sized bribe to the escort in question, Esmė Calloran. It wouldn't do for the famed Chase Valor to lose his heir. Or his hair, for that matter. Never mind. Speaking of my father…

"Ebony! Time to go!"

Already? I just have time to change my shoes before he's rushing me out the door. He spots my new piece of jewelry and asks where I got it from.

"Sapphi Gleam. One of the Capitol visitors gave it to her because the tail feather has a hole in it. 17 tokens and I have my new piece for tonight."

"That's my girl," he says fondly, patting my head. "You'll make an excellent trader one day. Now come on. We want a good spot at the Reapings."

We hurry along the cobbled roads to the town square, and then comes a nasty surprise.

Where is Esmė? Her place on the stage has been taken by another woman, with a bright orange afro and whiskers tattooed on her face. Yeuch. Capitolites have no sense of style.

"I am Ellenea Kite! Your previous escort has… retired, so I am here in her place! Let's get on with it, shall we?"

"Dad…" I whisper.

"I know, Ebony. I know. I'm thinking." My father is sweating. And this Ellenea person is drawing… No. Please no. That slip… on the back is a tiny black 'X'. I brace myself for what is inevitably coming next.

"Ebony Valor!"

I walk up in a daze, not seeing anything around me. When Ellenea sticks the microphone in my face, I simply say "No," and swat it away. The last thing I see before they take me into the Pavilion is someone's sparkling necklace chain, lying in the dust. On an impulse, I scoop it up and slip it into my pocket, and we enter the last place of my home that I will ever see.

POV of Ivor Grace, age 17

Standing in the town square on Reaping day, I can't wait for this. I'm practically _guaranteed_ a place in these games, thanks to my own genius. I always knew it was a good idea to invent some extra siblings, just as a backup plan for something. As soon as I heard about the no-volunteers-for-outer-districts rule I headed over the Pavilion and took out tesserae for myself, my three cousins and nineteen imaginary siblings. 50 slips of paper with my name on them. 50 chances to bring glory to my name. To kill. I laugh a little as that stuck-up Valor girl is called. I'll get her first. This is getting boring. Time to spice it up a little. I sneak up behind a kid called Midas Glint or something. Doesn't matter. I hide behind him and yell "Get on with it, you stupid cow!"

She looks offended, but does indeed hurry up. I slink back to my place and she pull out a slip.

"Calix Price!"

What? I didn't go to the bother of taking out tesserae for _nothing._ That shrimpy little twelve-year old will _not_ steal my glory. Oh well. Rules are made to be broken, right?

"I volunteer!"

The stupid woman's face as I charge onto the stage is _priceless._

"Young man, it was stated by-"

"I don't care. Get off my stage, Price. You'll have your turn another year."

He jumps off, looking relieved.

"Alright, people. Reaping over. Go back to your silly little lives. Let's get going." I clap my hands and the crowd _runs._ I'm not kidding. Idiots. They're looking at their next Victor. Actually, the morons should flee in terror. Sheep before a lion. I shove Ellenea down the steps and laugh, hearing my voice echo through the place that will one day belong to me.


	4. District 3 Reapings

**A/N:**

 **Like I said, bite-size chapters until the actual games. Enjoy!**

 **...**

District 3 Reapings

POV of Lumena Fuse, age 14

I hope someone volunteers for me. Unlike all the other girls I see around me in the town square, I am not simply praying to not be Reaped. Because I am guaranteed a place in these Games, after what I did, what I made. What it was meant to be used for. Only another girl of Reaping age, who is not right in the head or just wants the 'glory' of winning, can save me. We have had no Victors since the second War. A hundred years, and the Capitol has still not forgiven us for the actions of our last Victor, sending his messages onto Capitol screens. We have come close a few times. Oh yes, we have come close. Three years ago a boy named Huxley Cordin placed second. He set up an elaborate trap for the girl from Four, who was starving and would have done anything for the loaf of bread that was used as bait. The girl Urcha would have been strung up by her foot, then electrocuted. But the Capitol just wouldn't let him win. He and his district partner had already endured most of their equipment being swallowed by the ground, poison fog, lightning storms and Famine Birds, a type of mutt that is programmed to devour anything possibly edible and then self-destruct, damaging even more. Huxley's partner Satis was killed by the lightning storms. But somehow he made it to second before the scorpions came. Capitol mutts, hundreds of them, attacked him in his sleep and stung him almost to death, then left. Urcha found him and threw him into his own trap, securing her the crown. We will not have a Victor for the next hundred years at least. Humans cannot forgive when they believe that they have been wronged. And the ones who control our fate believe that they have been dealt a great wrong indeed. The interruption of their entertainment is a terrible thing for those who have nothing better to occupy their days. Which is why, as I stare at the glass orb full of paper, I know that before the games are over, I will be dead. No doubt every single slip of paper in there has my name on it. 'Wasting resources on a pointless and dangerous project' will have it's consequences. The time of my dooming grows nigh. The D3 escort Julius Kade strides casually over to the girl's Reaping ball. He grabs the first slip that he finds -not that it matters anyway- and reads out "Lumena Fuse! Come up to the stage please!"

Just as I expected. As I climb up to the stage I take in my surroundings, knowing for certain that this is the last time I will ever see my home.

POV of Ryam Telle, age 18

This could get me out. That's all I can think, looking at the tiny, dingy room that I live in in. Winning the Games could catapult me from a tiny hut on the edge of town, in the suburb of Wire's End, to a mansion in the Victor's Village, only a short walk from the merchant sector, and enough money to build whatever I want for the rest of my life. I've been making up my mind for a long time. Today I go into the games. If I win I come back and live a fabulous life with everything I could ever want brought to me with the snap of a finger. If I lose… well, either way I escape the trap that is my life. My alarm clock begins shrieking so I reluctantly hop out of bed, pull out a random set of clothes from my wardrobe and slowly begin to wander to the town square. Best get this over with. However, I can't resist stopping off at my favorite bakery for a snack. The owners know me and give me a free sandwich for luck. _Don't need it,_ I think. _I'm going in no matter what._ And I make use of my time in the Reaping square, analysing the other boys, making sure if it comes down to a race to the stage somehow, I'll get there first. It's happened before where there are multiple volunteers and they end up fighting each other or something. Not happening here. As soon as Julius calls for Boolean Gadge to come up, I scream "I volunteer!" at the top of my voice and sprint forward, trampling a couple of smaller boys. No matter. Whatever happens in these Games, I'm not going back to Wire's End.


End file.
